


The Mysteries of Feminine Foundation Garments

by Cordelia_Sun



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01, Sexual Frustration, Smut, Starburst Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia_Sun/pseuds/Cordelia_Sun
Summary: Following their night together on fake Earth John tries to convince Aeryn to dress a little more appropriately for an Erp girl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written partly for Terrafirmascapers.com Startburst challenge #95 Missing Moments and partly as the result of a particular challenge to write this missing scene.

He returned from the store to find Aeryn perched on the end of the bed. She’d shed the jacket and pants and wore only the over-sized shirt as she sat gazing out of the window with her long legs stretched out before her. Loose hair cascaded down her back. It’s was a striking sight.

“It’s much brighter today,” she said without turning away from the view.

“Can't say it feels like it,” John said as he dropped the shopping bag on the bed.

“I meant the weather.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess so.” John stood at her side and looked out of the window. It was indeed bright and the temperature was rising. The air conditioning in this place was always lousy and an oppressive humidity was starting to set in; a perfect match for his mood.

"I preferred the rain," she said.

“Come on,” he said and waved a hand towards the bag, “we need to go.”

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with the clothing I found.”

“Put it this way; if you were on a command carrier and you saw someone walking around in a uniform four sizes too big, wouldn't that make you suspicious? Wouldn’t you notice?”

“Well, yes but…”

“No buts. We need to blend in. And this,” he gave a gentle pull of the shirt collar, “does not blend in.”

"Fine," Aeryn said with an exasperated sigh as she stood and dipped her hand into the bag. Her expression twisted in confusion as she inspected the contents and John felt the sudden, awful, realisation that he'd got it all wrong.

He'd set out with one mission; buy girl's clothes. Somehow his stress frazzled brain had completely overlooked the simple option of jeans, a shirt and sneakers and he'd ending up buying a set of totally unsuitable lingerie and a dress his Mom would have worn.

"And what is this?" Aeryn held up the strap of a white lacy bra between the tips of her thumb and forefinger and glared at it as if it were about to explode. John felt his cheeks go red.

"It's underwear." he replied, perhaps a little too sharply, feeling defensive, "it goes under your clothes."

"I know what underwear is," she snapped at him while stretching the thing as if testing the limits of its tensile strength, "this does not appear to fulfill the necessary function."

"It does here. Trust me."

The garment twanged from her hands and flew across the room, slapping against a door frame before falling to the floor. Aeryn stared at it for a moment and then shrugged and picked up the next item, "where does this go? Is it some kind of strap for something?"

"They're panties. Here…” He snatched the skimpy garment from her outstretched hand and, after a moment of personal panic, oriented them the correct way around and offered them back to Aeryn, ”does panties translate?"

“Of course it does, but… I’ve never seen any like this." She regarded the thong with skepticism, "They look extremely impractical. Nothing like the ones you brought onto Moya.”

“A-ha!” John pointed in triumph, “so you admit it; you did steal them!”

Aeryn raised a brow and smirked at him, but didn't deign to supply an answer. She dropped the panties on the bed and began to unbutton the shirt. As each button came undone, exposing a few extra centimetres of creamy skin, John realised he was still pointing. And he was staring.

“I’ll, um, leave you to it,” he stuttered and hurried away to the chair in the sitting area of the apartment. He shielded his eyes as he left in a feeble attempt to regain some pretense of decorum.

Once settled, he tipped back his head and squeezed his eyes tight shut. He found himself turning the events of the previous night over and over again in his head. Their flight from the base, the beer, the bed.

It had been quiet, almost silent, and serious. A strange realisation; he was used to a little chat, some flirty dirty humour and a whole lot of play; he loved to hear a woman laugh before she collapsed into moans. Aeryn would probably break his fingers if he tried to tickle her.

But it had felt right at the time. Now, well, he didn't know what to feel.

“John.”

Aeryn’s voice in the silence made him jump and he opened his eyes to find her standing over him with her brows drawn together in a deep frown. The shirt, unbuttoned to the waist, provided intriguing glimpses of pale skin and possibilities. John bit his lip and tried to think of other things.

"What?"

"These are very uncomfortable." Aeryn complained as she wriggled and pulled at the fabric, "I think human women must be built differently... the fabric keeps riding up my eema"

John had no comments on the mysteries of feminine foundation garments, but he'd recently gained some interesting insights on Aeryn vs. human women and… he decided now wasn't the time to share them.

“I think they’re supposed to do that.”

“Well, it's very irritating.” Aeryn snapped and stomped away muttering, “obviously a common human characteristic.”

He watched her as she left. She stood with her back to him, stripped off the shirt and let it fall to the floor. In the glow of the sunlight streaming through the wide window, bathing her almost naked body in a white glow, she looked like some kind of ethereal goddess. The effect was somewhat spoilt by Aeryn's fidgeting and pulling at the panties to keep them from riding up. John found himself rubbing a smile from his lips.

She managed to get into the dress with the minimum of fuss until she tried to twist her arms behind her back and fasten the zip. John watched her struggle for a while in mild amusement.

"Need a hand?” John offered, taking pity at last.

She glowered at him before giving him a diffident shrug of her shoulder. John approached, ignoring the angry muttering about human females and their inability to even dress themselves, and swept her hair across her shoulder to bare her back.

She'd showered while he slept and the lingering scent of the soap clung to her skin; citrus and spice. Exotic fragrances made heady and rich by her own soft scent. He suppressed the urge to curl a lock of hair around his fingers; press his lips against the cool skin of her shoulder and breathe her in just once more. But, this wasn’t the time.

Or... maybe it was. Maybe, they could spare a sliver of time to tumble into bed and smile and laugh and fuck. In the sunlight this time. He could try to make her giggle? Somehow, he couldn't imagine that.

"What are doing doing?" she asked.

"Nothin'" he mumbled and got back to work.

He took great care to straighten the fabric; blunt fingers gently tucked in the seams of the dress before he began to draw the zipper. He was oddly reluctant to touch her skin, but here and there his fingertips brushed against her back. The tiny electric shocks from each touch were, he was sure, only in his mind.

Finally, to his relief and faint disappointment, that perfect pale skin was hidden behind the bright floral fabric.

“All done,” he whispered into her ear.

Aeryn nodded slightly and turned her head. She drew a sharp breath, clearly realising just how close they were, and held his gaze. In that moment, it was the night before again; the feeling of loss and hopelessness and the simple need to be close to someone washed over him all over again.

The moment shattered when Aeryn gave a sudden yowl of frustration and started wriggling frantically like a worm on a hook.

“These frelling panties” she cried, “I don’t know how human women stand them!”

“Fine! Take ‘em off!” John snapped, finally losing patience, “I'll do for you if you like!”  

He grabbed her and yanked the dress up around her hips. Aeryn clung to his shoulders and stared at him in wide eyed surprise, mouth agape. He raked his fingers up her thighs, hooked his thumbs into the fabric of the panties and pulled them down. He dropped to his knees and tugged them roughly to her ankles.

He stopped, stock still, when Aeryn slid a hand into his hair. When he dared to look up he found her smiling at him in faint amusement and he was suddenly aware of what he was doing. And where he was; millimeters from the curve of her hip and the crescent shaped birth mark he’d pressed kisses to the night before. He was either about he have his neck snapped or...

His hand crept between between her thighs almost of its own accord. Aeryn bit down on her bottom lip and tightened her grip on his hair, which John took as a sign to go on. The feel of her skin under his palm was porcelain cool and smooth until his fingers brushed against soft warmth. At the apex she made a high-pitched mewling sound that John found faintly astonishing. It was hardly a giggle, but it was close enough for him. 

She dug her fingers into his shoulder and pulled him hard against her; parting her legs until he could slide his fingers deep inside. She expelled a heavy breath as he brushed his thumb against her clit. John plied her thighs with wet kisses, pressing between them to flick his tongue against her sensitive flesh, now sweet and slick. She arched against him, pulling him closer and, as the taste of her flooded his mouth, he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers.

Soon the mewling sounds swelled to a cascade of desperate moans. He pulled away and could see the taut muscles of her stomach flex under the strain as she strove towards her climax. She hissed and grabbed his arm, trying to push him deeper inside, digging her blunt nails into his skin leaving long, red welts in her wake. He ignored the pain. Instead he gazed up, with more than a little pride, to watch her as she came. She had her eyes squeezed shut and and lips pulled back to reveal clenched teeth until, with a long low cry, she let go. He watched the tension drain from her face until she stood, breathlessly clutching him and a smile of serenity spread across her lips.

Then, disentangling her fingers from his hair, she pushed him away. She pulled the skirt back into place and smoothed it down with a business like brush of her hands. 

“Oh, that is so much better!” Aeryn with a deep sigh of relief. Then walked away looking for her shoes as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah. Well. Good.” John said in stunned disbelief. Was she talking about the panties, or... the other thing? Was that it? What about me? _Did that just happen?_

He didn't dare ask.

It took him a while to compose himself. Then he climbed to his feet and, dazed and needing something to do, rummaged in the bag for the last item.

“Here...” he draped a sweater around Aeryn's shoulders, “in case you get, um, cold.”

She accepted it with a nod, drawing it around her shoulders, “Is that everything?”

“Looks like,” he replied bitterly.

Aeryn walked into the sitting area and studied herself in the mirror for a long time; the frown deeper than ever. She looked awkward, deeply uncomfortable and entirely unlike herself. John watched in silence; off balance and unable to shake the feeling that there was something very wrong here.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“You look fine,” John lied and sighed; they'd have to talk about this at some point, "when we go--"

There was a knock at the door.  
  
  
  
 


End file.
